The Hetalia Bride
by ZQ
Summary: A naive Italian painter, a brave German farmboy, an evil Turkish prince, a sadistic Romanian count, a lonely Russian giant, a determined Spanish swordsman, and True Love. What could possibly be greater?
1. Prologue: I'll Tell You A Tale

**Prologue**

Peter's cough was still keeping him awake, so he was watching anime in bed when his Uncle Matthias came in.

"Hey squirt," he said. "I heard you weren't feeling so hot."

"Hey uncle," said Peter. "I see Uncle Lukas has kicked you out of the house."

"Nah, he hasn't gotten rid of me yet." Matthias grinned at his nephew. "I'm here because I have just the thing for what ails you." He held up a rather worn book and waved it cheerfully in the air.

"A story?"

"Not just any story," said Matthias. "This is the best sick-time story ever! Your mom and dad and I read it to each other when we were sick, and I read it to Uncle Lukas when _he_ was sick, and now it's your turn!"

"Well, alright," sighed Peter. "Does it have explosions and people dying in it?"

"Sorry kid, no explosions. But death? Oh yeah! And sword fights and monsters and torture and pirates and all kinds of cool stuff!"

Peter squirmed under his bedsheets, trying and failing to look uninterested. "Okay then," he finally said. "I'll try to stay awake."

"Fall asleep and I'll poke you," said Matthias. He opened the book and turned to the first page. "Alrighty then. _Once upon a time, in the kingdom of Florin, there lived a family of farmers..._"

* * *

><p>So! I have begun my first-ever Hetalia fanfiction. And my first-ever Princess Bride fanfiction. Hooray! I hope you all enjoy it!<p>

Human names will be used in this fic. For those who don't know, Peter = Sealand, Matthias = Denmark, and Lukas = Norway.

Axis Powers Hetalia is the property of Hidekaz Himaruya. The Princess Bride is the property of William Goldman.


	2. Chapter 1: The Painter and the Farmboy

**Chapter 1**

Once upon a time, in the kingdom of Florin, there lived a family of farmers. There were three of them, a man and his two grandsons. What happened to the boys' mothers and fathers was not known, but it mattered not. This is not their story. This is the story of the younger grandson, Feliciano.

Feliciano was a sweet child who enjoyed cooking pasta, eating pasta, and painting. While he unfortunately was not the most perceptive person, he was still extremely cute. Everyone who saw him would comment on how he would surely grow up to be a very attractive person.

Also living with the family was another boy, Ludwig. Although he was Feliciano's age, he worked hard in the stables and around the farm, sending everything he made back home to his family. He had nothing to truly call his own, save for a small cross he wore on a bit of string around his neck. He had that since the first day he worked there.

Feliciano did not understand any of that. He did not understand why a person would spend their life doing something they did not love. After all, wasn't love the greatest thing in the world?

And so he would spend his day painting the trees and the sky and the fields. "Ve ~ farmboy!" he would call. "Bring me a new canvas?"

"As you wish," Ludwig would gruffly respond, before going off to find it.

That was all Ludwig would ever say in response to Feliciano's requests. "As you wish." Feliciano had no idea what to make of it. His grandfather simply laughed it off as some custom from Ludwig's home country. His younger brother asked why the hell he would even care what the farm boy was thinking. After all, he was just a weirdo who was overly fond of potatoes. Feliciano was sure that neither of those responses were helpful, but he didn't know. After all, he was not very perceptive.

Ludwig also scared Feliciano a little. He didn't know what the farm boy was thinking. He didn't know where the farm boy was from, exactly. He didn't know why the farm boy only said those three words, in such a serious voice.

And so, Feliciano began to avoid Ludwig. It was not easy, with the farmhouse being so small, but he managed. He kept this up for some time, before he came to a realization: he missed Ludwig. He missed his stern gaze. He missed him always being there, watching him paint. And he missed "As you wish."

The night he realized this, Feliciano took his canvas and paints outside. He sat under the sky and painted the stars. He was so busy, that he did not hear the footsteps behind him.

"That is beautiful," Ludwig said. "I wish I could paint that well."

Feliciano jumped. Never before had Ludwig said so much to him at one time. "Oh - ah - oh!" he gasped.

"Am I distracting you?"

"No! Not at all!" Feliciano wrung his hands, his thoughts floundering everywhere. "Only...I can teach you, if you want to learn to paint!"

Ludwig's eyes widened. "You would do that for me?"

"Of course! Let us start right now! Here, take my brush and step in front of the canvas."

"I couldn't," said Ludwig, as Feliciano shoved the paint brush into his hand. "I'll ruin your painting."

"Oh no, it's fine! Now, where do you want to start?"

Under Feliciano's guidance, Ludwig spread the deep blues and purples of the night sky across the canvas. He peppered it with the sparkling stars.

He and Feliciano noticed how close they were standing together.

"Oh! I - um...I think I'll get to bed now!" squeaked Feliciano, jumping backwards.

"As you wish," whispered Ludwig.

Feliciano ran into the house, not caring if his grandfather or brother heard him. Why did he get so flustered around the farm hand? Why did he come outside like that? And why did Ludwig always say those three words to him? _Why_?

And then, though he was generally clueless, Feliciano realized the answers to those things.

When Ludwig said "As you wish," what he really meant was "I love you."

And as Feliciano realized this, he was amazed to discover something else.

He loved Ludwig in return.

* * *

><p>"Wait, wait, wait!" shouted Peter. "This is one of those kissy-kissy love stories? I don't want to hear one of those!"<p>

"Don't worry kid, it's got other stuff in it," Matthias told him. "Now, sit down and shut up."

"When do we get to the good stuff?" Peter asked, leaning back against his pillows.

"Not long, if you'll stop interrupting me. Now where were we?"

* * *

><p>Even though he figured out the answers, Feliciano was no less flustered when he awoke the next morning. His first thought was to find Ludwig and confront him with his revelation. As he searched the entire house though, the farm boy was nowhere to be found.<p>

"_Nonno_! Lovino! Where is Ludwig?" he cried, running to his grandfather and brother.

"The potato-loving idiot is gone," said Lovino. "Packed up and left this morning."

"Awah!" cried Feliciano. "Without even saying goodbye?"

"If you run, you might catch him before he reaches town," said their grandfather.

The instant the words were out of the man's mouth, Feliciano was racing for the door.

* * *

><p>Feliciano had never run faster in all his life. Down the road, towards the town he sped. "Ludwig! Ludwig! Waaaaaaiiiiiiit!" he screamed.<p>

He finally caught up with him at the docks at the edge of town.

"Feliciano?" asked Ludwig, as the Italian boy threw his arms around him. "How did you find me?"

"Grandpa and Lovino told me you left! Why are you leaving?"

"Feliciano, I must go," said Ludwig, patiently.

"No! You can't go!" Feliciano wailed, clinging to the German boy more than ever. "Ve! Ludwig, I...I love you!"

He was expecting a long pause, and perhaps a gasp, followed by tears at the revelation. All of the things his grandpa had spoken of, when he told his grandchildren stories of his romantic conquests many years before.

Ludwig was not Felicano's grandfather.

"And I love you," he said gently unhooking Feliciano's arms from around his neck. "And that is why I must go."

Feliciano was dumbstruck. "What? You love me and so you will go? Why would you do that? Ve ~ If you love someone, you _stay_ with them! Please, don't leave me alone!"

"I must go," said Ludwig. "If I could, I would ask you to marry me right now. But I have no money or anything to offer you. I will go out into the world and make my fortune. And when I return, I promise I will never leave you again."

And he took the cross he always wore and carefully tied the string around Feliciano's neck. "At the place I once called home, there was only ever my father, myself, and my good-for-nothing older brother," said Ludwig. "My father gave me that cross before I left to work here. He was the only one who loved me, before you."

"Ve...Ludwig..." whispered Feliciano. "But I have nothing to give you in return."

"Paint me one of your beautiful paintings," said Ludwig. "Make it of the house we will live in, of the place we will call home. It will be the place we will always be happy."

"I can do that," said Feliciano, anxiously. "But I must give you _something_ before you leave. Wait! I have one thing!"

He took Ludwig's hands in his own, leaned forward, and, very gently, kissed him on the lips. When they broke apart, everything was perfectly still for a moment.

"_Danka_, Feliciano," Ludwig finally said. "I will treasure it always."

As he turned to board the ship at the dock, Feliciano caught his hand. "Ludwig," he said, "how do you know you will return?"

Ludwig smiled. "Because we have true love, Feliciano. Do you think that happens every day?"

* * *

><p>Feliciano = ItalyNorthern Italy, Lovino = Southern Italy, and Ludwig = Germany.

I can not begin to tell you how weird it is imagining Germany talk about True Love. Italy...it comes much more naturally. XD

To answer One-Eyed Lady's question, there will be small changes for the Hetalia part of this fic. The plot will almost entirely be the same though. ^^

Axis Powers Hetalia is the property of Hidekaz Himaruya. The Princess Bride is the property of William Goldman.


	3. Chapter 2: The Brideless Prince

**Chapter 2**

Few people today remember much about kingdom of Florin, if they even know of its existence at all. It rose and fell well before the interesting times in Europe (or, indeed, before Europe at all), and even in its time had a reputation as a prosperous but dull land. The only things for which it was remotely well-known were its coffee and its feelings of animosity towards the neighboring land of Guilder, both of which were rather strong and black. The kingdom would have lasted for five hundred years by the next week, and the most noteworthy thing that happened within the past decade was that a farmboy and his sweetheart exchanged a cross and a kiss, before he set out to make his fortune.

And, of course, few people knew of that.

In spite of this, the people of Florin loved their kingdom and took great pains to honor it in every way possible. And in the case of the upcoming five hundreth anniversary, this meant that everyone in the royal family was slowly going insane planning for the event.

"And so, I believe it's safe to say that we do _not_ have the time or resources to bake a cake large enough to fill all of Florin City Square," said Queen Tino, who was quickly losing his patience with the royal advisors and their latest lists of plans. Really, the number of meetings they called over the event was getting to be absurd! He turned to his husband. "Don't you agree, my dear?"

"M'mhm. It'd n'ver w'rk," said King Berwald, nodding his head. It was the head-nod and not the answer itself that the royal advisors looked to. Perhaps it was stress from the job, but ever since he had been coronated, King Berwald began to speak in the most peculiar dialect. No one could quite place where it was from, and most took to reading visual cues as his responses, and not verbal ones.

"Very well then," said one of the advisors. "Are there any other matters that Their Majesties wish to discuss?"

"J'st th' one," said the king. "Th' one w'th m' son."

"Oh, of course!" said the queen. "Prince Sadik, your father and I wish to discuss with you the matter of your marriage."

One of the reasons the kingdom accepted King Berwald's proclaimation that he intended to marry another man so well was because Queen Tino seemed to be one of few in the land who could understand him.

The prince had spent the entire meeting nodding thoughtfully and trying to hide how incredibly bored he was. Though he was the one who really ran the kingdom (the king was handicapped by his mumbling and, more recently, his poor health, while the queen was handicapped by having to constantly look after the king), he didn't particularly care for the job. His true love, truth be told, was killing things. This was a love which would have gotten Sadik arrested years ago, were it not for the fact that he was the prince, and that he channeled his passion for killing through hunting. Thus, Sadik was able to indulge in his favorite pasttime without the fuss of dark rumors about him, and he gained a reputation for being immensely talented in a respectable hobby.

Right now, Sadik wanted to be off slaughtering something, preferably something quick and dangerous. A cheetah, perhaps. The last thing he was interested in doing was thinking about getting married.

Unfortunately, Fate and the Florin monarchy did not seem to care what he was interested in doing.

"Father has his health still," said Sadik. "I'm sure he has many years before him."

"That may be so," said the queen, "But it really is best to be prepared."

"'Sp'cially w'th th' mir'cle m'n g'ne," said the king.

"We talked this over, Father," said the prince, who inherited the queen's ability to decipher his father's bizarre method of speaking. "The system of relying entirely on a miracle man is outdated and unscientific. In fact, with the implamentation of Viktor's Brute Squad, the crime rate in Florine has dropped by -"

"Yes, yes, I realize this," said Queen Tino, who was not particularly eager to hear the prince recite numerous statistics (for even he found some things about the kingdom unendurably dull). "The fact remains though that the sooner you wed, the better. And it's not as if you have many options. After your engagement to the heir to Guilder's throne, there aren't many royal families willing to accept you into their -"

"I am aware of this," snapped Sadik.

The attempted marriage between Prince Sadik and Prince Hercules of Guilden was not one of either country's finer moments. Citizens of both kingdoms viewed the union with uncertainty from the start, when it was announced that the houses would be combined through the marriage of two princes. Both royal families insisted that the issue of gender was but a technicality, with Queen Tino and (presumably) King Berwald pointing out that their own marriage worked just fine. This did not entirely settle the people of Guilder, whose opinions on the royal family of Florin were less than shining, but everyone at least began to accept the idea.

Unfortunately, things had only gone downhill from there. The two princes were left to sit next to one another during the feast held to commemorate the engagement, in the hopes of sparking some form of love at first sight. This was not to be. Sadik found Hercules to be attractive enough (if a good bit younger than him), but was immediately put off by his aloof manner. Anyone who spent more than ten minutes with Hercules realized that the prince was simply quiet by nature, but Sadik could not stand the idea of a spouse who might think himself better than he.

Things did not improve when Hercules insisted on dining with his many pet cats sitting on his lap and around his chair (cats being what Guilder was best-known for, besides a long history of animosity towards Florin). The people of Guilder were used to this habit of their prince's. Sadik did not find it particularly endearing.

When the fifth course was being served, Hercules fell asleep without warning. The other diners paid this no mind, as this was just as common a quirk as the cats. Sadik, who had been drinking heavily for the past four courses, was completely fed up and decided to make rather snide comments under his breath about the Queen of Guilder, to the Florin ambassadors with him.

As it turned out, Prince Hercules was not as heavy as sleeper as he appeared to be. He also was very fond of his mother.

Within ten minutes, all of the guests had fled the banquet hall in panic. What had been brought out of the fifth course was splattered on the walls and floor. Both of the princes were strangling each other, screaming obscenities about each other's parentage, appearances, and tastes in fashion.

It went without saying that the engagement was immediately broken off.

"I have it all in hand," Sadik assured the queen. "There are more women in the world than in noble families. Men too," he added, nodding towards his parents.

"Be that as it may, I do wish you would choose a bride soon," said Queen Tino.

"It is being taken care of as we speak," said Sadik. "Viktor and the Count have been compiling a list of potential suitors."

"W're th'y n'w?" asked the king.

"Yes, where are they now?" asked the queen.

"Eh..." Sadik rubbed his head. "They're out on some royal business or another. Taking information on the milk sales of farmers, or some such thing. I'll ask them about that list when they come back."

* * *

><p>I am back! Yes! I apologize greatly for the delay.<p>

The previous chapter has been edited a bit, mainly to fix my mistake of saying Feli was the older brother. Erm... silly mistake was silly. XD;;

For those who don't know, Berwald = Sweden, Tino = Finland, Sadik = Turkey, Viktor = Bulgaria, Hercules = Greece

No, don't ask me how a Swedish dude and a Finnish dude produced a Turkish son. ^^;

Axis Powers Hetalia is the property of Hidekaz Himaruya. The Princess Bride is the property of William Goldman.


	4. Chapter 3: The Count and His Friend

**A/N - Oh yeah, there's this thing, isn't there? I should really update it. *ducks rotten fruit***

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 3<strong>

Peter shifted irritably under his covers. "This is boring! You promised there'd be fighting and death and stuff! I don't care about people getting married. When is the cool stuff going to happen?"

"Soon enough, squirt," said Mathias. He scanned ahead and decided to skip the next twelve pages, which were nothing but census-taking and the recording of statistics and the role it all played in Florin's history. "Okay, here we go..."

* * *

><p>Little was known about Count Mircea, save for the fact that he was from some far-off land and was, indeed, a count. Stories tended to vary amongst the townsfolk, from that point. He was from a long line of nobility, cast out in a cleverly-staged coup. He was a con man who the prince secretly gave the title of "count" to as a favor. The more popular scraps of gossip (this was after gossip, of course, seeing as gossip was around the instant more than two people were in existence) found themselves woven together, until most of the people of Florin generally accepted that the Count was the illegitimate son of a nobleman, who was chased from his home by an angry mob after he was revealed to be a vampire. Mothers would warn their children not to misbehave, lest the Count crawl in their windows at night and drink their blood. Particularly stupid girls would giggle and daydream that the Count would sweep them off of their feet and take them to be his bride.<p>

These fantasies were, naturally, entirely baseless. When one lived in as dull a land as Florin, one did what one could to have _some_ excitement.

Even less was known of Viktor than of the Count. He arrived in Florin the same day that Count Mircea did, and was rumored to be from the same mysterious country. It was also rumored that he was only put in charge of Sadik's Brute Squad because he was in the Count's good favor. The gossip stopped there, strangely enough, though on some slow days, the townsfolk did try to spread it around that Viktor was banished from his home for some scandal that involved yogurt (this being after yogurt but only just, making it a novelty still).

That particular day, Viktor found himself wishing his life was as scandalous as the gossip claimed. At least that way, things would be more interesting. When one got right down to it, working for the royal family was _boring_. Maybe it would have been more exciting in another kingdom, but for a place like Florence? It was unbelievably dull. Viktor mainly spent his days wandering the castle corridors, pretending to have something important to be doing. It was a very good thing this strategy worked, because in reality, he held about as much value as a Guilder quarter. (Yes, this was after quarters. Do you think anything came _before_ them?) The Brute Squad he manned had only been used once, roughly five years ago, to settle the matter of a batty peasant lady spitting on a fruit vendors stall. It only was formed in the first place to give Viktor something to be in charge of, at Mircea's request.

So desperate was he to alleviate his boredom, that he agreed to accompany the Count on some royal business or another. It had something to do with talking to the local farmers about their milk output for the past year. Or month. Or maybe it was actually about the quality of the eggs their chickens were producing. Viktor wasn't entirely certain. He suspected that Mircea wasn't entirely certain either.

"One more farm left, and then we can return to the castle," said the Count, who really was as bored as Viktor was. (The life of a count in Florence, you see, was even more dull than the life of the head of the Brute Squad. All his job entailed was to be fashionable and let people gossip about him).

"Of course, it _would_ be the one farthest from town," Viktor sighed. "Who owns the place?"

Mircea pulled his horse to a halt to consult the list of farmers he was carrying. "According to this, it's run by a man by the name of..." he paused, trying to make out the terrible handwriting of whoever made that list. "... Something-Or-Another Vargas," he lamely finished.

"Odd name," commented Viktor.

"Mm," replied the Count. If no one caught on, he wasn't going to admit he couldn't figure out the first name.

* * *

><p>The usual sleepy serenity of the Vargas farmhouse was interrupted that morning, as Feliciano burst in. "Ve! <em>Nonna<em>! Lovino! Someone is coming to visit us!" he cried, waving his arms. "Do you think they brought pasta? Or if not, should we cook them some?"

"You idiot," snorted Lovino.

"Pasta sounds like a fine idea," said Nonna Vargas, with a smile. "Why don't you boys get started on that, while I go out to greet them?"

Feliciano cheered and began to pull out the ingredients. With some grumbling, Lovino set about helping.

* * *

><p>Count Mircea and Viktor had nearly reached the farmhouse when a tall, well-built man came out.<p>

"You must be the visitors that little Feli told me about!" he said. He had a deep voice that managed to never sound gruff. "Welcome to my humble home. What can I help you folks with?"

The two men looked at each other. This Vargas fellow seemed more happy with a farm life than anyone they'd ever seen. The Count finally turned to the taller man. "Mr... Vargas?"

"That's me!"

"I presume you know who we are -"

"Sorry, I don't," interrupted Mr. Vargas.

"Therefore I'll... be... what did you just say?"

Mr. Vargas gave a booming laugh. "I said I'm terribly sorry, but I have no idea who you are."

The Count blinked. Viktor knew this was a very new situation for him. Not once, in any of the sixty-five other farms they visited, had anyone failed to recognize Mircea. The life of a count was dull, but the peasants loved to follow it. This man truly did not know who the Count was?

"Ah well, that is of no concern!" the man said, happily oblivious to Viktor and Mircea's bewilderment. "I take it you gentlemen have a reason for this visit?"

"Erm, yes," said Mircea. "We have come on behalf of Prince Sadik. You do know who Prince Sadik is?" he added, waiting for the farmer to nod before continuing. "Right. On behalf of him, we are here to record your product input and output, your financial gains and losses, the amount of livestock you keep, et. cetra and so on."

Mr. Vargas stared at the Count, a smile still plastered on his face.

"Yes, yes, of course," sighed the Count. "Let's take this one question at a time. How many people live on this farm with you?"

Mr. Vargas brightened. "Right now? That would be me and my two precious grandchildren. Lovi! Feli!" he called, turning towards the farmhouse. "Come out and meet our visitors!"

Viktor tried very hard not to yawn. The farm folk seemed nice, but their lives were blander than English food. (This being after English food, naturally. Everyone just ignored that fact because only the English could eat that stuff.)

Fortunately, it was not long before the grandchildren came running. The first was a sullen boy, who did not seem very interested in meeting them. "What is it, _Nonna_?" he asked. Then, when he noticed Viktor's gaze, "What the hell are _you_ looking at, you weirdo?"

"Good day to you as well," said Viktor.

"This is my dear Lovino," said Mr. Vargas, apparently oblivious to how hostile his grandson was acting. "And Feli should be out soon. Feli! Feli, where are you?"

There was a cry of "Ve! Coming, _Nonna_!" followed by a girl in a maid's outfit coming out of the farmhouse.

She was…quite adorable, really. A good bit younger than Viktor, certainly, but still very cute, nonetheless. She had some air about her that invited everyone to smother her with affection. Perhaps it was her air of vulnerability? Or her delicate features?

Viktor's train of thought was interrupted as the girl - as _Feli_, he reminded himself - ran to the group.

"Ah! _Nonna_, I am here!" Feli cried. "The pasta is almost ready and -_ WAH_!"

Her skirt had caught on an unfortunately-placed fence post, sending her flying face-first into the ground. She lay there wailing loudly, as her grandfather went to help her up.

"There, there, Feli, don't cry," he crooned cuddling her.

"What a dumbass," muttered Lovi.

"She's very delicate," the Count whispered to Viktor. "We'd better find out if she's…available."

Viktor nodded. Ever since Prince Sadik had charged them with finding potential brides for him, they had followed a simple strategy: They kept their eyes open while performing the various mundane duties assigned to them. As it turned out, things like census-taking were ideal for searching for candidates. Not only did it allow the two men to travel the kingdom, but focusing on all the suitable women they found kept them from falling asleep from boredom.

As they watched Mr. Vargas help up the weeping girl and calm her down, the two men decided it was time to find out what they could of Feli.

"You must be very proud to have such fine grandchildren," said the Count.

"Indeed!" said Viktor. "A good, strong grandson -"

"Oh for God's sake," grumbled Lovi.

"And a lovely granddaughter," Viktor finished, ignoring that.

"Oh no, I have two grandsons," Mr. Vargas said, with a smile.

Mircea and Viktor stared. They glanced at each other, and then looked again at Feli, who was sitting on the grass, picking dandelions.

Finally, Viktor cleared his throat. "Pardon. She - he - um... _Feli_ is a grandson as well? Always?"

"Most assuredly, always!"

Viktor was completely at a loss at this. He gave Count Mircea a look that read along the lines of _I have no idea how to deal with this, please help me!_

Fortunately for Viktor, the Count, while no less flummoxed, had recovered much more quickly. "Ah yes, of course," he said, raising his voice slightly, to be heard over Feli, who was starting to hum. Forgive us.

Mr. Vargas let out a booming laugh. "Think nothing of it!" he said, giving each of his guests an affectionate pat on the backs that nearly sent them fling. "It's a common mistake, I assure you. Even his betrothed thought the same! It must be my grandson's lovely face. It's like an angel's, isn't it?

"It certainly is," agreed the Count, privately thinking the mistake was more likely caused by the maid's dress. "And you said he was betrothed? Who is the lucky girl?"

For the first time since he fell, Feli turned to look at the guests. "The most wonderful person in all the world!" he gushed, jumping to his feet and spilling dandelions around him. "Such golden hair! Such beautiful eyes!"

It seemed, in Viktor's opinion, safe to say that Feli was not available for the Prince. It was certainly a shame, as the boy was much more attractive than the other women interviewed (This was quite an odd thing for him to think. Keep in mind, that it was not yet after bishonen). Sadik could simply order the boy to marry him, but history showed that it was _never_ a good idea to stick one's nose into star-crossed love. At best, it meant a bride who was constantly shrieking and weeping and writing horrible poetry about the lost love of their life. At worst, the Prince could look forward to a runaway fiancée or someone's death (his own, Feli's, a random serving boy's, they were all most inconvenient).

It seemed that Count Mircea was more optimistic on the matter though, for he continued to mine for information. "They sound lovely," he said, giving a smile that was just sincere enough to fool his audience. "And what is your betrothed's name?"

Feli beamed. "Ludwig!" he cried out.

Count Mircea and Viktor looked at each other again, this time exchanging the mutual message of _At least we know he's open to the possibility…_

"It's the sweetest thing you'd ever have seen!" said Mr. Vargas, completely missing the look between his visitors. "Ludwig is the boy I hired to help out on the farm. Or rather, he _was_ the farmhand. He left some years ago, to seek his fortune in America."

"Ve! And when he's got enough money, he'll come home and marry me and I'll make pasta and -"

"I wish you both the greatest of happiness," the Count cut in. He turned his attention back to Mr. Vargas. "Now sir, if you could please tell me how many cows you keep on your farm, and the average amount of milk produced by each. And, while you're at it, the number of chickens you may be keeping and the number of eggs they lay daily…"

* * *

><p>Count Mircea and Viktor had only just entered the castle when they were found by Prince Sadik.<p>

"Well?" he asked, impatiently.

"The production of both milk and eggs is going well," said Mircea, reading off of the notes he took. "Quality isn't so well with the eggs, but most farmers blame that on the quality of feed on the market these days."

"Thank you for that," said Sadik, stiffly. "Not sure why you bothered asking about the chickens, since you were only supposed to look up the milk output, but never mind that. How did your _other_ job go?"

The Count raised an eyebrow. "Are you that eager to be wed?"

"Not in the slightest, but it doesn't matter. My stepmo- er, dad… the _queen_ started bothering me about it." (After spending most of his life with one father and no mother at all, Sadik never really adjusted to the fact that he now had two fathers). "Oh, and father was complaining about how I got rid of the miracle man."

"It was for the best, sire," Viktor assured him.

"Indeed," said Mircea, who held nothing against the former miracle man, but _hated_ his shrew of a wife with a passion. After all of the verbal sparring they'd engaged in, she was just as likely to hit him with a frying pan on sight as to greet him, and he was all too glad to see her gone with her husband.

Sadik grunted. "Don't stall, now. Did you find anyone?"

"Well sire," said Mircea, "It may interest you to know that we _did_ see someone today who may suit your needs…"

In an instant, Sadik's face lit up. "That's excellent news!" he said, rubbing his hands. "What's her name?"

"Erm, it's a him, actually, sire."

"…Oh. Of course it is," muttered Sadik. "He's…attractive, though?"

"Assuredly, sire."

"And my subjects will love him?"

"I believe so. He has an innocent charm to him, at least."

"Then he'll do."

"There is _one_ issue," said Viktor. "He is betrothed to another."

"Oh? Who's that?"

"A farm boy, your highness, but he's been away at sea for years."

Sadik rubbed his chin, pondering this. Finally, he clapped his hands. "Right!" he said. "Put this boy, this…?"

"Feliciano Vargas, sire," Mircea supplied.

"Are you _sure_ this person isn't a girl? That name sounds pretty feminine, to me. No? Okay, fine. Anyway, put this Feliciano Vargas's name on the list of potential brides regardless. I'm going to pick a wife by the end of the week, and I'll give it some thought. Maybe he'll change his mind about the engagement thing. You never know how things turn out."

* * *

><p>Peter squirmed. "I thought you said something interesting was going to happen! This book is just boring" he complained to his uncle.<p>

Matthias rolled his eyes. "Kid, haven't you been paying attention to what I just read? Keep listening. You don't know how these things are gonna turn out!"


End file.
